getting some fresh air. He tried to think like that.
Now Charlotte looked at him.
“He came to find me,” she said. “Nora, what do you think of that? Should I trust this man?”
“No!” Nora said.
Charlotte laughed.
“Let’s all get out of the sun,” Iris said. “Bruce, it was nice to meet you officially.”
“Thanks,” Bruce said. “You too.” He put his hand on Charlotte’s bare shoulder. He smiled like any husband, which was exactly what he was. He touched Charlotte lightly, in case she decided to move away, but when she leaned into him, he spread his fingers, and kept his hand in place.
KNOX COULD see Bruce standing by the desk, wearing loose green scrubs over his clothes. He held what looked to be a shower cap in his hand. As she moved up the hallway she noticed shower-cap coverings pulled over his shoes, too—their bright seams disappearing into the cuffs of his pants. He stood in profile to her, and when she drew closer he launched into a little soft shoe, his hands stretched out with their palms up, his back foot touching the floor, propelling his front foot forward. His mouth formed an O over the loosened surgical mask that hung below his chin like an airsickness bag. A white minstrel, Knox thought. Al Jolson meets … but the only rhyme she could think of right away was “Nels Oleson,” the shopkeeper from Little House on the Prairie. She started to laugh. That could be a joke for Charlotte, if she could ever explain it. But it would be enough to tell her that Bruce had been dancing, that he was reaching for their mother’s arm now, attempting to co-opt her into a graceless do-si-do.
“Bruce,” Knox said, and she was happy for him as he shuffled toward her, her mother’s hand still in his, and bent to kiss her on the side of her head.
“They’re about to move her into the recovery room, darling,” her mother said. She was flushed, her eyes shining. “It’s already done, they’re getting the babies cleaned up.”
“They need to be incubated,” Bruce said. He was slightly breathless from his dance. “They say Ethan’s lungs want some help to clear, but they’re formed, and both of them are looking great. They’re just about four pounds each.” He dropped her mother’s hand and brought his fingers to his rough cheek as if to remind himself that it was still there. “Sorry you missed it. But it was a little scary, I admit.”
“We’re going to go see them,” her mother said. Though she was obviously speaking to Knox, she kept her eyes on Bruce. It was the first time Knox could remember any of them seeing Bruce like this: larger, more dashing, somehow, within his rapture. Her mother looked wooed.
“Maybe Charlotte first, if they’ll let us in,” Bruce said. “They’ve been stitching her up for a while, and I don’t want to leave her for too long.”
“Ethan,” Knox said. She watched Bruce, too. Alongside her gladness for him she noted the murk in her mind, the same darting loneliness she’d felt during her call to Marlene. It hung in her, at half depth, like a bit of sediment or a fish adrift. She would have to swim past it on her way up to the surface, to the present—where a sharper, more reactive version of herself waited. Ethan was Bruce’s father’s name—she was nearly sure of that. She pictured Mr. Tavert in the baggy brown suit he’d worn to the wedding, lying trapped under glass, his lungs wanting help to clear. What kind of help? A tube with a tiny bellows at the end of it, for a nurse to luff open and closed as if she were standing in front of a hearth, her cocktail melting and forgotten on the mantel.
“Ethan and Ben,” Bruce said.
Knox looked at her father, whose face darkened visibly with emotion. Without deciding to, she moved to stand close beside him.
“Isn’t that great, Knoxie,” her mother said.
“It sure is,” her father said. “It really, really is.”
“Ethan and Ben,” Knox said.
Bruce watched the ground. Knox thought he might be humbling himself with his body, as animals do when they feel dominated. He might be reining in an excess of pride, or trying to.
“I hope that’s all right with you, Ben,” Bruce said. “We were going to ask you next week, but—”
“It’s fantastic,” her father said.
“Gosh,” Knox said, rising, with effort, into the moment. “Wow.”
Dr. Boyd took them to Charlotte. He talked as he moved down